Draconem non est fabula
by The Dragon Lover
Summary: "Apparently, when you know someone like Ebony Benyth, you're not allowed to be a hermit anymore." -Collection of pieces written for LJ writing community, all loosely related.
1. Ebony and Brown

**Chapter Title:** Ebony and Brown  
**Prompt:** Judgment  
**Word Count:** 982  
**Rating:** G  
**Original/Fandom:** Fandom: Harry Potter ("draconem non est fabula" 'verse)  
**Pairings (if any):** OCs/OCs (you'll see)  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** OC-centric **  
Summary:** Apparently, when you know someone like Ebony Benyth, you're not allowed to be a hermit anymore. -Collection of pieces written for LJ writing community, all loosely related.

* * *

Despite her cheerful and sometimes loud behavior, Megan Watson was horrible at being consistently social. In fact, she was quickly in danger of becoming a hermit. It was only the interference of her friends and old classmates that she was dragged from her flat out into the wizarding world.

One persistent owl and a Howler later, and the brunette found herself standing with ex-housemate Ebony Benyth in the front yard of the Benyth family manor. It was dark and grand, Victorian architecture blended with Greek elements, and it was currently charmed to shimmer in the various colors of a phoenix. It was the anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat, and it gave cause for much celebration even more than a decade after the Second Wizarding War. It was also an excuse for the flashier wizards and witches to show off their magical abilities and wealth, as was evident in the harmless flames dancing on the edge of the roof. Megan likened it to the gaudy Muggle traditions of Christmas.

"Come on, Watson!" Falling back on last names in her irritation, Ebony marched her through the front door and into the receiving room full of the affluent and famous. Spying several Ministry officials, they steered clear of most before finally coming across Mrs. Benyth in the kitchen directing her House Elves.

"Wonderful to have you here," the older woman gushed, embracing the brunette tightly before turning to shout at a House Elf for putting too much pepper in the soup. It was obvious where her daughter's dark, wavy hair came from. She then directed them towards the back door, exclaiming, "The celebration's outside, ladies! Enjoy yourselves—Ebony, your _best _behavior."

Ignoring the teasing this earned her from the guest, Ebony held her chin high and led Megan through the crowd of people, giving brief introductions when necessary and whispering commentary that brought out careful snorts.

"This man is insufferable," she revealed just before donning the brightest smile and calling out to her uncle. A hug and two kisses on either cheek later, they were walking away as she discreetly wiped her face with the sleeves of her elegant robes. They shared a conspiratorial smile when her cousins mistakenly drank from the bewitched punch bowl, gaining animal snouts and the irritating habit of garbling their words as they tried to reverse the effects.

"Crazy party," Megan muttered slyly. This earned her a tickling hex.

Suddenly, she stopped, bringing Ebony to a halt as well. Muffling a squeak, the brunette stepped just behind her friend, pointing across the garden, "Is that the guy who caught us in third year when we were practicing the Disillusionment Charm?"

"Well, look at that." The question was ignored, effectively answering it as she added, "I'm more interested in the man beside him. Isn't that his brother?"

"Brother?" Thaddeus and Loic looked nothing alike; while the former was muscular and blond, the latter was lean and raven-haired. "Are you sure?" Their last names differed, as well.

"Absolutely," Ebony replied before making a beeline for the two wizards, dragging her reluctant friend. "Their family was full of scandal several years back. Care to say hello?"

"I'd really rather not—"

"Oh, hush," she scolded the brunette. "Socializing is good for you."

Noticing their approach, both men turned to greet them politely: Thaddeus with a boyish grin, Loic with a calm smile. "The lady of the hour," joked the blond, holding out his hand for a firm handshake. "Our father thanks you for the invitation."

"The pleasure is all mine," Ebony easily replied. Then she laughed, musical and bright. "Or at least, that's what my parents would say." She was meant for these kinds of social events, despite how much she disliked running them; with the way she was raised and the manner she carried herself, she was going to make an excellent hostess in her future. It also helped that she was absolutely gorgeous.

Feeling awkward in comparison to her ex-housemate, Megan tucked some hair behind her ear. "Hi." It was a very lame way to start a conversation, but she knew it would've been worse if she had remained silent. _I'll just be dubbed the wallflower, no biggie._

She didn't expect Thaddeus to reach over and clasp her shoulder, cheerfully parroting, "Hi." Laughing when she glanced away in embarrassment, he tugged his brother against his side, starting the introductions proper as he threw his arms around both of their shoulders. "The name's Thaddeus. This is my brother, Loic."

"She was in my House," was the other man's exasperated response, although he looked amusement when she met his gaze. Inclining his head, Loic teased, "I remember two young ladies slithering out of the Common Room to practice their chameleon impressions."

"For all you know," Ebony cut in with another laugh, "we were doing our homework."

"I highly doubt the assignment was to Disillusion yourselves and wander about the castle at night."

Thaddeus' laughter was joyous and loud, catching the attention of some of the other attendants. Patting both of his captives on the back, he exclaimed, "You two ladies brighten up this celebration. We should meet up another time, without the dress robes and Ministry officials."

The mini-hostess smiled warmly. "That sounds wonderful." The blond's grin was infectious as she was soon sporting one herself, and she suggested in an all-too-innocent tone, "We could make it a double-date."

Megan smiled nervously at the idea, but was sure to gently flick the wand at her side, throwing the Twitchy-Ears Hex at her friend. Ebony's hand rose momentarily before she countered it, giving her a knowing look. The brunette's reply was late and unenthusiastic. "Fun."

_Someday soon, Ebony is going to face my fiery judgment and find herself lacking._ She only hoped she could avoid her friend's wand-happy moments before a date. If Ebony was too busy with Thaddeus, it might be possible.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	2. beauty charms and floo powder

**Title:** beauty charms and floo powder  
**Prompt:** Lock and Key  
**Word Count:** 639  
**Rating:** G  
**Original/Fandom:** Fandom: Harry Potter ("draconem non est fabula" 'verse, sequel to "Ebony and Brown")  
**Pairings (if any):** OCs (you'll see)  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** OC-centric  
**Summary:** She should've known Ebony wouldn't leave well enough alone.

* * *

The moment that Megan looked into her bathroom mirror, she knew Ebony was responsible.

Hurling floo powder at her fireplace, she barked, "_Ebony!_" She stuck her head into the green flames, searching for the black-haired woman she loved and hated. This continued until, finally, one of the House Elves _popped_ in to tell her the Benyths were enjoying a light brunch. "I'll hold."

No less than ten minutes later, the sly snake stepped into view and crouched down, a delighted smile on her face. "Oh, good," she exclaimed, "you're awake! And I _love_ what you've done with your hair."

"Stuff it," growled the brunette, ignoring the snickers as she accused, "You cast something on me before I left!"

Ebony placed a hand over her heart with a dramatic gasp. "Me, cast beauty charms on you without you noticing?" She _tutted_ in disappointment. "Surely you don't think so lowly of me."

"I can't believe it! What, are my average looks bringing you down?"

The good humor fled from her expression. "You're being ridiculous, Watson. It's just a little touch-up, not a full makeover. You wouldn't let me do you up, so I improvised."

"Without telling me?" Megan grabbed the sides of her head and groaned. "What if I had walked around all _day_ without knowing? Merlin, what if I ran into _Locke_ or _Cylan_, and they started staring at me as if I had sprouted antlers again?"

With a sigh, the elegant woman ordered, "Move aside and let me through." Once this was done, she dusted the ash from her robes before folding her arms over her chest. "You're not a troll, Megan. I only shaped your hair and added some color to your skin."

Pointing at her temple, the brunette added, "My eyelids are _shimmering green_, Ebony!" When this just earned her a sour frown, she got up from the floor with a determined, "I'm taking this off."

"No!" Ebony blocked her way, summoning the wand on the bedside table to shove into her pocket. She jabbed the irate woman's forehead and put on her no-nonsense voice. "_You_ are going to _trust me_. I didn't even try any facial reconstruction. This wand is staying under lock and key to keep you from undoing all of my hard work. They're just a few little charms, and I'll take them off after the date." She poked her again when she growled. "_Okay?_"

Megan threw her arms into the air. "Fine!" She flopped onto her couch with a huff, crossing her arms defensively as she stared at the carpet. "I don't like looking like anything other than myself."

After a moment, her friend sat beside her, anger forgotten. "I know," she replied, words softer now that the conflict had passed. "But you're so much prettier when you _try_ to look nice. Plain might be all right for normal days, but you should look your best for a date."

"But I'm just a third wheel," she complained. "You're there for Thaddeus; I was just lumped in because I was there."

Ebony stiffly bumped shoulders, attempting to be reassuring. "Then at least there'll be a fourth wheel alongside you. Didn't you think Loic was cute back in fifth year?" She smiled when this managed to make the brunette blush. "I think you should at least _try_ to enjoy yourself—maybe even flirt a little. You're the only person I'd want to have a double-date with, besides; you'll keep me from doing anything _too_ embarrassing."

This finally made Megan laugh, and she shook her head in surrender. "And what about me? I can laugh and joke and play with my guy friends, but when it's a _date_ I'm suddenly at a loss."

"We'll help each other," the wavy-haired woman declared. "So. What will our distress signal be?"

"I think a Protean Charm would work nicely…"

* * *

_-Dragon_


	3. good impressions

**Title:** good impressions  
**Prompt:** Lavender and Lace  
**Word Count:** 742  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairings (if any):** See previous  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** Slight suggestive themes; OC-centric  
**Summary:** The only thing that could've made this anymore awkward was if she was on this date alone.

* * *

Megan was told to stop fidgeting by her ink-haired friend, who grabbed her arm to still her when words weren't enough. "You look fine," Ebony said, not in reassurance so much as annoyance. "Trust me, remember?"

"It was a lot easier to trust you at home," muttered the brunette. "But this is the _public._"

"And the public loves you," was the no-nonsense reply, given flatly. "You just need to reciprocate." She dug an elbow into her friend's ribs, smiling widely. "Speaking of the possible reciprocation of love, there are our handsome dates, coming to escort us on our shopping trip. Good afternoon!" Waving and calling to them, she led the way as she weaved between passerby. She stood tall in her heels, cutting a beautiful figure with her lavender summer-style robes. The material stopped a few inches above her knees, revealing long, shapely legs to anyone who dared to look at them. Her excuse was that it never hurt to impress anyone.

And impress they did—Megan was very uncomfortable with the bluntness of Thaddeus' grin and the quiet weight of Loic's eyes. Her robes weren't as short as Ebony's, but they were just as daring; the low-dipping bodice was lined with lace designed to intrigue and entice, and nothing she said could prevent her friend from shoving her into it. Her only comfort was the fact that the rest of her skin was covered by a material as dark as a nocturnal stroll through Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest. She felt more at ease in dark colors.

"Ladies," the blond greeted, as lively and cheerful as last time, "you're both even lovelier than I remember!" While Ebony smirked at the praise, her friend was a bit shyer with her thanks. "Don't you agree, brother?"

"Quite." Green eyes stopped her heart as effectively as a Killing Curse. Smiling suddenly, Loic gestured about them as he inquired, "Where to first?"

Megan only had a moment to sigh in relief before they began their trek through Diagon Alley, a place she hadn't seen in years. Leaving Britain to stay with family in North America, she hadn't had much contact with her old schoolmates except for the occasional letter. This was a stroll through her childhood, and she glanced fondly into the apothecary before remembering she needed to restock her supplies. "I'll only be a minute," she promised the impatient woman, knowing she was keen on visiting Madam Malkin's.

Slipping inside, she was immediately hit by the awful smell of what could have been any number of things, dead or alive. She cast a Bubble-Head Charm before browsing the shelves, plucking ingredients with tongs and scrutinizing them for defect. Tight budgets weren't conducive to experimentation, but she managed well enough. Satisfied with her purchase, she exited the store to find them all laughing and smiling at something Thaddeus had said. They went on.

It was inevitable that they walk into the Quidditch shop, and the witches let their dates wander off towards the newest Firebolt model as they examined gloves and padding in various materials. The gloves were particularly tempting, being a smooth earthy brown and charmed to keep your grip steady on broom, bat or ball. Ebony opted to hold out for a more attractive pair.

Megan's hopes were dashed when they quickly passed both the stationary and book stores—Scribbulus Everchanging Inks and Flourish & Blott's—in order to facilitate her friend's desire for more robes. Trying not to show her displeasure, she couldn't hide her longing glances outside. The other woman rolled her eyes, but the wizards found it funny. Her face grew hot as Thaddeus suggested they showcase some of the outfits, but thankfully their undeclared leader decided against it.

"Maybe next time," Ebony said with a saucy wink.

It wasn't long after that when she mentioned her wish to turn around and stop at one of the quaint cafés. But a faint memory of curiously peeking through a store window made the brunette speak up.

"I'll meet you guys there. I want to pick up a few more things."

She was surprised when Loic offered to accompany her, although she belatedly remembered this was supposed to be a double-date. Smiling nervously at him, she quietly agreed and ignored the meaningful looks the other two were exchanging. This wasn't Hogwarts anymore; she needed to accept these unexpected situations like an adult.

_Now, to hold a conversation with him…_

Merlin, she needed lessons in socializing.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	4. open to interpretation

**Title:** open to interpretation  
**Prompt:** Morpheus, Greek God of Dreams  
**Word Count:** 1335  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairings (if any)"** See previous  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** Mentioned death in family; OC-centric  
**Summary:** Somehow, she manages not to ruin everything, which would no doubt please Ebony greatly.

* * *

Megan could only imagine what Ebony and her date were talking about as she made her way down Diagon Alley with Loic. The ink-haired girl had a habit of sharing embarrassing tidbits of people's lives in an effort to gain compensation, so there was no doubt that Thaddeus knew about her semi-crush on his brother back in fifth year. She mentally groaned.

But there was nothing she could do about that. So, pushing those thoughts aside, she met the man's gaze and tried to smile as genuinely as possible. _Let's try this flirting thing, I guess._

Before she could speak, he returned the smile and made her lose track of her thoughts. It was a different quality of smile than she was used to; Locke and Cylan had always done so platonically, but this was just a bit more intense and completely breathtaking. She didn't know what to say, so she let him start the conversation.

"I gather you're not fond of large groups."

A soft sigh escaped her. He understood.

"Not always," she admitted, appreciating his apparently genuine interest in her words. "I just like to follow along, for the most part. Ebony is always glad to take the lead, so it works out well enough."

Loic nodded. "Sounds a lot like Thaddeus. He's happiest when surrounded by all of his loudest friends who hang on his every word." He was good-humored about it, but she could imagine how frustrating that could be.

"I'm glad I live alone. I don't have to deal with that mess."

She had her hobbies to keep her company, and chaos such as a boisterous sibling—or friend, for that matter—were not conducive to her research. Hundreds of potions ingredients gone to waste, manuscripts and delicate Charms ruined from curious visitors… It was the only reason her friends were able to get her out of her residence: She was in fear of visitors messing up her things, or critiquing her work before it was finished.

He cocked his head curiously as they rounded the bend. "Do you have a flat nearby?"

Megan shook her head. "I stay in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop over in Hogsmeade. Mr. Scrivenshaft was very generous to let me use a backroom."

"In exchange for labor, I suppose."

She smiled. "It's more of being a safari guide, with how those shelves are organized. One of these days, I'll simply snap and flip the entire store over." Blushing lightly when he chuckled, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and inquired, "What about you?"

"Do you mean, do I have a flat?" She nodded in reply. "I moved out of my family estate last month, actually. It was about time I had a place to call my own."

"That's nice." Debating with herself on whether she should share more, she eventually caved. "Yours was willingly, at least. Mine was a bit dramatic."

His gaze was sharp, but not frightening. He was merely curious. "What happened?"

"I was kicked out." Sighing in remembered frustration, she explained, "Ever heard of that old stereotype of stepmothers being evil incarnate? It's pretty spot-on."

"Did you have an argument?"

Megan's smile was bitter. "That would suggest I had a say in the matter."

Brows furrowed, he asked what everyone else already had: "Why didn't your father stop her?"

She inhaled deeply, silently letting it out again. This was always the hardest part of sharing. "He would have, were he alive. He passed eight months prior." Calculating, she added offhandedly, "It's been a little over two years."

Here was where the playful mood truly lied to rest. Loic's expression turned solemn, and he murmured, "My condolences." He didn't know the full story, and she wasn't planning on telling him. _In fact, what am I doing, giving him my life story on the first date? Ebony would hex me!_

"Thanks," she mumbled. Wiping sweat from her forehead, she tried to dispel the dismal atmosphere she had inadvertently conjured. "Merlin, do I know how to ruin a perfectly good day or what?"

His lips quirked. _Score!_ "It's hardly ruined. The weather is still mild, for a summer day." It was a silent acceptance that the subject should be changed, and the quip about the climate was typical snake humor. _Small talk: The cure-all slash cover-up for Slytherin conflicts._

"True," she grinned as they finally stepped into the place she had wanted to check out: The junk shop. As a child, her father had passed this store without comment, but she had stopped to peer inside the dusty windows and absorb as many peculiar sights before he tugged her along. The dark silhouettes had been intriguing then, and the cluttered shelves and tables randomly arranged throughout the shack tempted her now.

_It's like a magical Goodwill. _

It wasn't surprising that Loic didn't look too excited by this detour; he carefully stepped over a toppled pyramid of blocks as he asked, "_This_ is where you wanted to go?" The way he wrinkled his nose after brushing against a dusty table was, she'll admit, kind of cute.

She shook the thought out of her head before answering. "I used to browse these sorts of places with my stepmother, and while there is no love lost between us, I did enjoy finding the occasional gem." Eyes brightening at a pile of books, she maneuvered her way to them, muttering, "Ah, _here_ we go… what do we… have here…"

"I doubt there are many "gems" among this rubbish."

"Maybe not," she admitted, placing _How to Keep Track of Your Remembrall_ back on the table. "But it's a lot quieter than Madam Malkin's—and less crowded, although the dust is wreaking havoc on my allergies." She then gave a small gasp as she lifted a circular net lined with feathers. "This is a dream catcher! Granted, a Muggle one, but it looks to be in good shape."

Coming up beside her, Loic commented as she toyed with the web of strings, "The Greek believed in a deity of dreams, calling him Morpheus."

"Really?" She held the dream catcher to the light, examining it with a contemplative expression before she decided against it and replaced it. "I can't remember much about Roman and Greek myths. I'm more interested in the kind involving dragons." After a moment, she realized what she had said and laughed. "But I guess those are simple facts for wizards, aren't they?"

Rummaging through the trash as the elderly man at the counter slept, Megan picked up a small, chipped stone. She squinted as an indentation proved magically crafted, and as her companion watched she traced the straight line before deciding, "This is a rune. But I can't figure out which one…" It could have been _iss,_ a rune of ice, structure and order; _naud_, a rune of emergency and hard work; or even _tyr,_ representing all of the courage and masculinity Godric Gryffindor was known for. There wasn't enough power left in it to provide an accurate identification, either.

She palmed it, placing a handful of coins on the counter as instructed by the sign that would surely cover the price of the useless item. Something about it felt familiar, though; no matter what the stone had once done, it had been tossed aside once it proved of no further. No attempts to repair it had been made, it seemed. She could relate to that.

"That's hardly a gem," he teased as they exited the shop soon afterward. She was surprised to find herself smiling.

"No," she agreed, "but it's… interesting. Ancient Runes was my best subject back at Hogwarts." And she knew exactly where she was going to place the stone, too; on her dresser, to the right of the enchanted dragon figurine her mother had bought her, in front of the frame holding an old—Muggle—photograph of her parents before she was born. Each time she'd see it, she could imagine it represented something different—like a divine message from the gods.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	5. don't kiss-and-tell

**Title:** don't kiss-and-tell **  
Prompt:** Dessert  
**Word Count:** 681 **  
Rating:** PG  
**Pairings (if any):** See previous  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** Slight suggestiveness; OC-centric  
**Summary:** And of course, Ebony wanted to know everything.

* * *

Although nothing scandalous had occurred during her detour with Loic, Megan couldn't help her blush when she saw Ebony's sly grin. They approached the outside table the other two had procured—Thaddeus making a joke about the red umbrella—as the ink-haired girl asked innocently, "Have fun, you two?"

She wouldn't let her embarrassment cow her any further, since she had actually enjoyed the leisurely walk. "Yes," she said bluntly, earning Ebony's arched eyebrow. Her snark had free reign after that. "Did you know a circus opened up nearby? It featured your face on the poster."

The woman snorted, then discreetly glanced at her blond date in discomfort. She didn't want to seem unladylike, so her retaliation was a low-profile Tickling Hex cast under the table. "Go inside and order," she suggested as the brunette bit her lip to prevent from laughing. "They have some interesting Muggle drinks I bet you'd love to try."

"Ha, ha," Megan replied after she had countered the hex. Her income while living with her stepmother had come from being a Muggle barista.

The two entered the café, and Loic stated lightly, "I can tell you two are the best of friends."

"Of course we are," she laughed. "She's the only one I'd let charm me up like a doll."

The raven-haired man smirked, and she had to remember to breathe when he told her matter-of-factly, "Well, I, for one, appreciate her handiwork." He turned to give his order to the waiting barista, giving her enough time to compose herself before doing the same with only the lightest of blushes. Asking about the selection, she settled on a chai latte, extra chai, coated with cinnamon. He commented as they stood off to the side, "You seem familiar with this establishment."

"I used to work in a place like this."

He glanced at the front window, where they could see his brother and her friend chatting amiably. "Is that where the comment on Muggle drinks came from?"

"She's just jealous because her coffee tastes horrible," was her smug reply. He laughed, causing some patrons to glance up, and she beamed even as she ducked her head. It was a beautiful sound.

Just as their orders were placed on the counter, Ebony abruptly materialized to snag the brunette's arm, pardoning them for a moment. Leading her reluctant companion into the loo, she grabbed her shoulders with an eager grin.

"Spill, Watson!"

Face imitating an activated Remembrall, Megan turned her face to the side. "We just walked down the street," she said honestly. "I looked around a bit, and then we came back. Nothing _happened._" She knew exactly what Ebony wanted: Juicy, shocking gossip she could run and tell their other friends about as soon as they got home.

"Nothing?" Looking put out, her voice was sharp with disbelief. "He didn't even try to make a move on you?" When this was also answered in the negative, the ink-haired woman gave an aggravated sigh. "You should've channeled Stith and just gone for it."

"Oh, Merlin," the brunette splayed a hand over her face in embarrassment, "_please_ don't mention him right now." She didn't want to remember the night Locke had attempted to be cute and give her a good night kiss. They had bumped noses, stood awkwardly for about a minute, before muttering quick good-byes and scampering back to their dorms, silently vowing never to mention it ever again. She was planning on carrying it to her grave—and Ebony's, if need be.

"Right, sorry." She clearly wasn't. "Well, here's to hoping he asks for a second date." As they exited the bathroom, she whispered slyly, "Or you could always invite him back to your place for some _dessert._"

"_Ebony!_" Hexing her wouldn't be prudent within the establishment, so Megan settled for a poisonous glare. This was easily ignored, and they returned to their table to find both of the men's eyes trained on them. Or rather, Loic's was on her, while Thaddeus looked between Ebony and his brother with a grin. Just what had they been talking about?

* * *

_-Dragon_


	6. exit stage right

**Title:** exit stage right  
**Prompt:** Tomorrow  
**Word Count:** 292  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairings (if any)** see previous  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** OC-centric  
**Summary:** The two brothers were different as night and day, and it suited their dates just fine.

* * *

The double-date drew to a close, and Megan was surprised when she agreed with Ebony's, "Today was wonderful, gentlemen." When the ink-haired woman stepped forward and planted a brief kiss on Thaddeus' lips, it wasn't particularly surprising. _She's always been a bold snake._ "We should do this again sometime."

"Of course," the blond replied, smiling widely. "It has been a pleasure, ladies." Bowing and promising to meet up again, Thaddeus left with a loud _crack_ of Apparition. It was abrupt, but her friend seemed happy enough, so the brunette kept quiet.

She was surprised when, instead of giving a simple good-bye and following his brother, Loic inquired smoothly, "Do you have room in your personal library for a few additions?" At her quizzical look, he explained, "You mentioned an interest in runes, and I believe my father has some tomes on the subject."

Trying not to show just how excited she was at this offer, her attempts to tone down her smile evidently failed, as indicated by her friend's soft scoff. "I'd love that, if he'd be willing to lend them."

The smirk she received gave the impression that it would be an argument he'd gladly win, making her blush. "I doubt it will be much of an issue," he reassured. He was certainly confident, so she chose to take his word for it. She was struck speechless when he took her hand and gently brushed his lips against her knuckles without removing his gaze from her face. "Until tomorrow," he vowed. And then he Disapparated.

As the brunette stood frozen in the middle of Diagon Alley, Ebony's laughter was a mixture of equal parts surprise and delight. "He certainly likes you, Watson," cackled the snake.

Megan replied with an elegant, "Geh."

* * *

_-Dragon_


	7. you never know

**Title:** you never know  
**Prompt:** Apocalypse  
**Word Count:** 427  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairings (if any)** N/A  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** N/A (You get that this is OC-centric by now)  
**Summary:** Although her favorite was Ancient Runes by far, Megan had also taken Divination as an elective while studying at Hogwarts.

* * *

Divination was a controversial subject for many wizards and witches—especially ones with ties to the Muggle world and its skepticism. If you didn't believe in its power wholeheartedly, you generally tended to doubt supposed prophecies or readings of twigs. It was a murky subject for most, and even those with the intelligence to understand its real power were too afraid that their future could be dictated by crystal balls to truly admit they believed.

But Megan had a different perspective, as she swung between skepticism and imagination rather frequently in her day-to-day life; her Muggle upbringing with her mother gave her an appreciation of science while her father's introduction to magic finally set free her creativity. Curiosity gladly led the way.

So, even as she took readings and horoscopes with a hefty pinch of salt, she realized that there was some truth to the field of Divination—and that fact was cemented by her dreams.

No, she didn't have warnings of an impending apocalypse or another wizarding war. It was never anything that dramatic, for which she was mildly grateful for. She had kept a log of her dreams ever since her Divination class in Hogwarts, when trivial things would give her a bizarre sense of _déjà vu. _Passages in new textbooks suddenly seemed familiar, and she would pause in the middle of conversations as she tried to remember when she had said those things before. It wasn't always exact, but the inconsequential things were predicted pretty accurately.

Although several of her classmates had held contempt for Professor Trelawney—one of the few things to surpass House prejudice—she couldn't deny that these dreams were mildly disturbing. What if her nightmares proved to be predictions of the future? She had wrestled with her thoughts for weeks before finally sucking it up and approaching the supposed Seer after class. Most of what followed was a test in patience, but the dream journal was one of the few bits of good advice Trelawney spouted in her entire career.

She still preferred to learn Divination through personal study, but she also listened to class lectures and asked the occasional question (all the while hoping it wouldn't make the nut start rambling for the rest of the class period). It wasn't her top subject, but she kept her options open.

Waking up with the remnants of a dream in her head, she diligently copied it down even as she tried to figure out when she would ever be exploring a desert with a talking lion.

One could never really know.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	8. hey there, stranger

**Title:** hey there, stranger  
**Prompt:** In the Heat of the Moment  
**Word Count:** 817  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairings (if any):** Megan/Loic, Ebony/Thaddeus mentioned  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** Not too long after trying this double date thing, Megan is in way over her head. "Thanks, Ebony."

* * *

The tomes Loic had sent her (the day after the double date, as promised) were wonderful—preserved carefully for gentle reading and rich with ancient information. Special charms had kept them pristine, meaning she wasn't sent on a sneezing fit every time she turned a page, and several diagrams displayed proper warding techniques incorporating runes on physical foundations. She had already experimented around the backroom Mr. Scrivenshaft graciously provided, putting little protections here and there of various purposes. (With his permission, of course.) From flashy shields to quiet hiding spots, there were all sorts of uses for the runes she loved.

Along with the delivery was a short note, asking to meet together sometime in the next week. Almost afraid of what her friends would get into if they found out, Megan opted to keep this news to herself, replying in the positive. She would let him decide when and where.

As a result, she was startled when a familiar head of raven hair marched into the quill shop. Loic's spine was stiff and his eyes were cold, making him utterly unapproachable—but he soon recognized her behind the counter. At once, he simultaneously relaxed and tightened; his shoulders hiked up minutely even as he smiled at her. She wasn't an expert at reading people (especially ex-Slytherins), but she could pretty much guess he was upset over something and that it might have to do with her.

For a moment, she was afraid he was going to tell her he was canceling on her. Then she realized how ridiculous that was and pushed the anxiety away. _It wasn't even set in stone,_ she reasoned.

Voice sarcastic, she recited her lines as trained by her employer: "Welcome to Scrivenshaft's, can I help you find anything?"

The tension between them eased a bit; she smiled widely as his lips twitched. "I've already found her," he quipped. When she led him to a partially concealed corner, his expression smoothed into a blank slate. She wasn't sure what to make of that, so she waited.

"My brother is horribly inconvenient at the best of times," he began, which earned a snort of amusement. "He ran back home to boast about his lovely double date with his little brother, piquing our parents' interest."

This didn't sound as bad as she had thought. She almost sighed in relief. "Well, I guess I should tell Ebony to be flattered."

He caught her gaze. "It was _so_ flattering that they've decided to meet the both of you." When the shock bled into her face, he continued wryly, "In the end, my father finalized our date. He wants both of you to join the family for dinner on the tenth." The bitter undertone suggested this wasn't the first time his father had done this.

The brunette started, glancing about as if to find a calendar. "Of _this_ month?" She didn't think she had anything nice to meet his parents in—and dear Merlin, she was _meeting his_ _parents._ She wasn't confident enough in dating to deal with this. The air snagged in her lungs.

"Of course, you don't have to go." He stated this fact without inflection. Impending panic was put on hold as she caught the resigned tilt to his mouth. "I can't expect you to willingly put up with this sort of thing, after a single date."

_He's expecting me to refuse._ Granted, she was tempted to do just that. But she couldn't do that without damaging this fledgling relationship of theirs, and—he was a _really great guy._ Even if it was completely out of her comfort zone, she wanted to get to know him, and if that included meeting his parents then she was going to grin and bear it. _Ebony would be so proud,_ she mused sardonically.

For an instant, she wished she had her best friend's daring. A scenario such as this would have the ink-haired woman kissing her man in the heat of the moment. Twisting her fingers into his robes, tugging the startled wizard down into a passionate kiss… Sometimes audacity was appealing, she had to admit.

But, Megan did as Megan does; putting on a smile, she told him, "This would be a good test in dealing with large groups." She brightened as his eyebrows rose. "And I can't really refuse free food, can I?"

Her heart nearly stopped at the unrestrained grin this put on Loic's face. It was brilliant, truly. _I'm not the only one wanting to see where this goes._ A boyish gleam in his eyes, he tucked her arm in his, voice low in her ear. "Then you _must_ accompany me for lunch, since I'll be footing the bill."

A thrill climbing her spine, Megan protested halfheartedly, "I can't leave the store out of the blue…"

Smirking, he flicked his wand at the front door, activating the "out to lunch" sign. "Problem solved."

* * *

_-Dragon_


	9. Meet the Oakes

**Title:** Meet the Oakes  
**Prompt:** Lighthouse  
**Word Count:** 865  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairings (if any):** Megan/Loic and Ebony/Thaddeus  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** It just so happened that Megan liked the two subjects that Mr. Oakes had studied extensively.

* * *

The introduction to the rest of the Oakes family was led by Thaddeus, as expected. He gestured at the impeccably dressed Pureblood couple. "This is our father, Oriole Oakes, and our mother, Lillian Oakes. Mother, Father, this is Ebony Benyth, and Megan Watson."

Mr. Oakes had decades of business and tough decisions behind him, evident in the creases on the corners of his eyes and mouth. His salt-and-pepper beard was short, as was his hair. His wife beside him was just as experienced and still a gorgeous sight—a flower magically kept in its prime. They wore robes of bold maroon and elegant mercury respectively, a clear cut above the rest. They were certainly valued associates of the Benyth family.

Ebony offered her hand to the older woman with a pleasant smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"Likewise," Mrs. Oakes replied. "We do hope you'll enjoy your time here." She was warm and welcoming, and Megan could see her as Ebony in the future: Softer, classy without effort. "Come, let's all get comfortable."

Megan didn't think she could get comfortable when all of their furniture consisted of expensive foreign brands and designs; the chairs and sofas in the sitting room were modeled after thrones, making the brunette feel small. She kept her spine straight and hands in her lap as her Slytherin compatriots had taught her back in school. She wanted to make a good impression.

As was custom, Ebony made the first attempt at conversation. "Your home is lovely," was her genuine praise. The manor seemed fit for royalty, and the brunette decided she should do some research on the possibility.

Small talk was easily achieved, which the girls could muster without issue; warning bells rang when Thaddeus evidently grew bored with their discussions on family business ventures and spoke up.

"Industries can be difficult to wrestle," he admitted, grinning at his father. "If such matters were decided with a duel or a Quidditch match, I'd probably be more inclined to listen."

Loic snorted. "You always did love to settle things with duels," he taunted, "but you're also a sore loser, if I remember correctly."

"Boys," warned their mother, amused but sternly dissuading what sounded like a common topic between the brothers. Smiling at her guests, she confessed, "Thaddeus _did_ love Quidditch more than learning. Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only class he took seriously."

"Completely seriously," added the blond.

Ebony's laugh twinkled like wind chimes. "Quidditch is a lot more exciting than a textbook, but my parents wouldn't have approved anything less than an E." She shared a conspiratorial glance with her friend. "It's always been my secret passion."

Even as she prepared herself for it, Megan still felt trapped when several pairs of eyes swung over to her. "What about Ms. Watson," Thaddeus inquired, innocently giving her a heart attack. "What did the little mouse love in school?"

The old nickname made her mouth run dry. _I didn't think anyone remembered it._ It was an embarrassing one, something a few older students had teased her with. She had always scurried and holed herself away, and something about her glasses and dark brown hair made everyone label her "mousy." It wasn't something she wanted to be reminded of.

But hiding her discomfort was something she was able to do in a pinch; smiling with only a bit of nervousness, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I was pretty boring back in Hogwarts. I mostly read books and tried to stay out of trouble."

"For the most part," Loic muttered like a stage-whisper. The glint in his eyes made her smile more genuine.

"I studied Ancient Runes and Divination." She thought she saw the married couple perk up. "I took Arithmancy for a time but found myself lacking in ability, despite my interest."

Mr. Oakes glanced over at his youngest son. "That would explain where my old research ran off to. Loic wouldn't say." Turning his steely gaze back onto her, his attention was almost suffocating in its intensity. "Quite an interesting combination of studies, Ms. Watson. What branches of Divination are you specialized in?"

The Sahara Desert was located in her throat. She swallowed. "Mostly dreams, sir. I'm not all that good at it. Just… _déjà vu._"

His stoic face disagreed with her dismissal. "Many important events have been foretold in dreams." Mrs. Oakes looked ready to say something, but she held her tongue as he continued. "I would suggest you look deeper into the subject; you'll be surprised at just how significant Divination is in our everyday lives."

Ebony acted as a light guiding the conversation through the storm, directing their attention away from her friend. She knew how uncomfortable the brunette was under this scrutiny. "She won't tell me any of her dreams, but she'll gladly help interpret my own. And have you seen the wild ideas Muggles have come up with? "Dream dictionaries" are very popular nowadays."

She tried to keep her relief under wraps, but Loic caught her gaze from across the room and silently apologized. A shake of her head told him it wasn't his fault. She had to get used to people eventually.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	10. Door to Neverland

**Title:** Door to Neverland  
**Prompt(s) Used:** A Hidden Door, Thirteen, Enchanted, It's For the Best, and Dressed to Impress  
**Word Count:** 800  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** Always full of surprises. Loic shares some of his past; memories are bittersweet, although their reasons differ; and Megan meets another part of the Oakes family.

* * *

The brothers offered to show their guests around the manor before dinner, which their parents readily agreed to. Ebony was excited to see more of the exquisite decorations, but Megan's focus was on Loic as he retreated to the back of the procession. He was being quiet, so she slowed her pace to walk at his side.

It was only when he halted in the middle of the hallway that she realized they had strayed from the group, but her thoughts were swept away when he snatched her arm and jerked her into the wall. Squeaking in surprise, she was enveloped by his arms as they went _through_ the wall into an alcove, where a door adorned with twining silver vines and animated woodland critters lie in wait.

She was thoroughly distracted from this discovery when she realized his arms were still secured around her waist, and her heart leapt into her throat as his hands settled right over her navel. Could he hear her frantic heartbeat?

Nose in her hair and lips at her ear, it was only then that Loic whispered, a mischievous smile in his words, "I'd like to show you something. I think you'll enjoy it."

He led her into what looked to be a private study: A room which had bookshelves instead of walls and a mahogany desk underneath what had to be an enchanted window. The futon was rather plain in comparison to the sitting room furniture, but with its hunter green upholstery and large pillows it looked far more comfortable. The entire room hummed with magic and knowledge, and Megan turned bright doe eyes to her guide to find him smirking at her reaction. "Is it to your liking?" was his teasing remark.

"Absolutely," she answered honestly, taking a seat as she examined the empty silver tray on the small coffee table. It was the most elegant sign she had ever seen of a dedicated scholar absentmindedly cramming food.

"This was my mother's present to me for my thirteenth birthday," he revealed as he joined her. "Thaddeus was always trying to find it, but between my mother's Charms and my own protections he was inevitably left wandering in circles."

_That was sweet of her._ She could just imagine a younger Loic, eyes twinkling with mischief, slipping inside just as his brother rounded the corner. "It's cozy." She wanted a room just like it. "Was this study an escape, for when you needed some peace and quiet?"

His smile looked faintly sad. "It was. If the others couldn't find me, Mother would come in and ask me to join the rest of the family." Jade eyes lingered on familiar tomes. "A flat isn't quite the same."

Megan nodded, remembering her various apartments while in the States. "It doesn't really feel like home." Coming home wasn't as relieving when no one shouted a greeting as you stepped through the door.

He pursed his lips, a far-off look in his eyes. Not wanting to disturb him, she tried to keep as still as she could as Loic was occupied by his thoughts. He soon shook his head and returned to the present, smiling softly in apology. "But it's for the best," he went on, setting aside his memories. "It was time I began a life of my own, outside of these walls."

The brunette shifted on the futon, inching closer. "…don't you miss it?"

She thought of studying with her father, and visiting her grandfather. Her grandmother. Times spent in her mother's kitchen.

He grew still. This answered her question more completely than his murmured, "Sometimes."

Their quiet gathering was eventually interrupted by a sharp _crack_ as a House-Elf Apparated into the study. Unlike the Hogwarts Elves, this one held its chin up; its bow was respectful to its master, and to itself. The embroidered pillowcase on its small but healthy frame made it look dressed to impress.

"Hammy," greeted Loic. The brunette couldn't help furrowing her eyebrows at the name. _Rather detracts from the image._ "I suppose dinner is ready?"

"Yes, Master Loic." Its voice was high but masculine, so she presumed it was male. "Your presence is requested in the dining hall."

"Thank you." The House-Elf inclined his head before Disapparating, and the raven-haired man turned back to her, a smile tugging on his lips once he saw her expression. "My mother named him "Hammond," but we never call him that. He prefers it that way." This amused Megan. _Of course he does._

"I guess we should join the rest of them." She had survived thus far, and she could hardly wait to eat.

He agreed, but he made her wait a moment. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he lightly kissed her knuckles. "Thank you, for coming."

She choked, "No problem." And he grinned.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	11. fit

**Title:** fit  
**Prompt(s) Used:** Between Worlds  
**Word Count:** 200  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** Things would have been different without Ebony.

* * *

Megan had never really fit in as a child, wherever she was. She merely… existed.

Between keeping her magical heritage away from her Muggle mother and the limited time spent with her wizard father, it was difficult to be completely honest with her parents. At Hogwarts, prejudices still led most of the kids to look down on the snakes. She had grown up quietly in Muggle primary school, and so she slithered into the House of Slytherin without making a ripple.

It was really Ebony that brought her out of her shell.

Sure, she had other friends: Locke Stith in Gryffindor, Sarah Vulpes and Drake Zemyr in Hufflepuff, and a whole slew of Ravenclaws. But her dormmate was there when she couldn't sleep, helping set up privacy wards to let her cry or rant in peace. Ebony wasn't a Muggle-lover, but she didn't sneer when Megan brought out her static photographs. She had even hexed Elliot Garrison for stealing her stuffed dog toy way back in second year.

They were as different as Snitches and Quaffles, but as Ebony would put it, both were vital to winning matches; either a steady volley or a flashy catch could tip the scales.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	12. Still Recovering

**Title:** Still Recovering  
**Prompt(s) Used:** Justified, Weep No More, Never Wanted This, Poisoned  
**Word Count:** 1159  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc):** Mentioned death in the family  
**Summary:** Megan needed help working through her grief.

* * *

Mail was rare for her nowadays, except for the occasional rekindling of old friendships or correspondence with her mother. Most of her classmates didn't know she was back in the country, either. So the owl she found tapping on her window early one morning was unexpected. "And just what are you here for," she asked the bird, earning no reply other than an impatient hoot. Shaking her head, Megan yawned as she accepted its burden, pushing some treats across the desk for it to grab before leaving. "You're welcome," she called after it. She wasn't really a morning person.

Unfolding the envelope and peeling it open was done the Muggle way—old habits die hard—and she rubbed her eyes so she could see its contents.

Halfway through the third line, her expression darkened. Crushing the paper in her hands, she tossed it onto the floor and returned to her bed, fighting back the tears her frustrated exhaustion conjured up. She was tired of crying over this. It wouldn't bring him back, or right his wrongs. But the tears came regardless of her wishes, and she curled up beneath her covers as she kept her breathing even. By now, it was a talent.

Her father, when he died, had left some unfinished business. Mysterious letters starting popping up a few weeks after his death, revealing ghastly facts about Steven Watson. Embezzling, stealing, forgery—at this point, nothing would surprise her. She had gone through months of trying to come to terms with this betrayal of all she had thought of him, followed by her stepmother kicking her out and struggling to survive on her own. Life hadn't given her much time to adjust.

She still kept in touch with her father's brother and his family, who were currently sifting through the family estates and debts after the passing of _his _father. Every mention of what her dad had done churned her stomach, and the letters from her aunt were often littered with them. Megan wanted to help, but she couldn't stand to listen to the horrible truths they were digging up about him. What had justified his crimes in his mind, before he died?

Since his shortcomings had come to light, her perspective of the world had turned dark. Going through the day became that much harder to accomplish without feeling sick. Men walking into the café with their daughter made her more prone to magical outbursts; she withdrew into herself like she had in primary school, keeping her social interactions confined to work. Despite her wide smiles and silly jokes, she saw the world through bitter lenses and tried to ferret out the worst in everyone. At times, it was like she was waiting for someone else to betray her.

One could say her spirit had been poisoned.

The States had finally lost their appeal when her grandfather suddenly died. Mediwizards couldn't solve every magical malady. Taken in much the same way her as her grandmother had, Pepa thankfully had passed away peacefully in his sleep. With three out of the four most important people in her life gone, Megan couldn't bear the thought of tragedy befalling her mother just as swiftly. Since the older woman was living in the UK, her daughter decided it was best to keep close to her. And so she moved to Scotland—Apparition was much easier when you were on the same continent—and made a deal with Scrivenshaft to get both a job and a place to stay.

It was on the heels of this thought that she was struck by an urgent need, and she didn't even bother to change out of her pajamas as she scrambled out of bed and out the back door. Turning on the spot, she Apparated to the safe zone closest to her mother's house. Sprinting down the street without any regards to the sight she made, it took her nine minutes flat to get there; she tripped over the porch step she always managed to forget about and barreled into the door before knocking on it like a madman.

She finally gave a thought about _alohamora_ after the door was opened, but everything else flew out of her head at the sight of Theresa Stallz's frizzy dirty blonde hair and her sky blue bathrobe. Tears trickling down her face, twenty-year-old Megan Watson threw herself into the woman's arms, letting out a choked sob.

Very soon, she was ensconced on the couch with both her mother and her brother, Wayne. The rest of the household—Mom's husband and his children—wisely gave them plenty of space.

"It's not fair," she cried into her mother's chest, all wrapped up in warm, fuzzy sleeves. Even though she was in pain, she found comfort in this familiar embrace (even with her brother hanging onto her side like an awkward octopus). "It's not f-fair, Momma. He's gone, and all I want is to have him back—have them _both_ back—and yet—I _hate_ him, so much—I—"

"I know, baby," her mother crooned, fingers threading through her hair. In response to her daughter's tears, her eyes were also watery. "I know you don't hate him, you just—miss him, so much." Arms tightened around each other. "I never wanted this to happen to you, sweetie—I never wanted you to go through _anything_ like this." She kissed her forehead. "I love you, Megan."

"Me too," piped up her brother, wriggling closer to them on the sagging cushion. The brunette couldn't help the snort she had at his expense when he nearly fell off, but then she cried even harder. She loved her family so much, and the more recent death of her Pepa made the world shrink around her. Sometimes it didn't hurt so much, but then—then she felt it all over again.

It took much of the morning to calm her down; a message had to be sent to Mr. Scrivenshaft for her sudden disappearance and reassure him that she would return before lunch. But Megan realized she had needed this, as she sat down for a late breakfast with her mother, brother chatting amiably across the table. She was so used to internalizing things that she didn't realize when she was being burnt out until it was all too obvious to everyone.

"You can call me anytime," Theresa reminded her, as if reading her thoughts. She gave a sleepy smile. "If you can't find a phone, or you can't come through the Muggle neighborhoods, talk to your friends. We all love you, sweetie, and we want you to be happy."

Megan decided then that she needed to have another talk with Ebony, Locke, and Drake about her feelings. When she couldn't have her mother here to soothe away her pains, she knew she could rely on the people she had known since that first train ride to Hogwarts. _Family,_ she mused, _without the blood._

* * *

_-Dragon_


	13. just a moment, please

**Title:** just a moment, please  
**Prompt(s) Used:** Captive  
**Word Count:** 216  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** If only Megan knew just how much her best friend meddled…

* * *

With a flick of her long dark hair, Ebony smiled and dismissed herself from the table after glancing meaningfully at the man across from her. It was subtle, but the crease in his forehead and tilt of his chin showed he had understood. The House Elf directed her to the loo, and she wasted time by washing her hands and fixing up her hair. Loic met her halfway, a puzzled lilt to his voice. "That was careless, for a former Slytherin. What did you require?"

Her smile was sly as she jabbed a finger at his chest. "It's not what _I_ require of you—it's what _Megan_ requires of you." This only furthered his confusion, so she explained with laugh, "Her birthday is coming up. And I _know_ that you're going to be at the surprise party I'm throwing for her, doing some overly romantic gesture, complete with candy and flowers." She crossed her arms, ready to hold him captive until he agreed, if need be. "Right?"

Amused by her commanding nature, Loic dipped his head in mock reverence. "But of course." His mind already seemed to be fiddling with an idea. Even if things didn't work out between the two, Ebony hoped her friend would keep the raven-haired man around—if only for entertainment value.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	14. what to wear

**Title:** what to wear  
**Prompt(s) Used:** In the Nick of Time  
**Word Count:** 299  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** Things were never simple when Ebony was getting ready for a date.

* * *

Megan held up the satchel even as she stepped out of the green flames, shouting into the empty room, "Ebony, I don't know how you manage to leave your things in my flat when you're never actually _in_ it." The dark-haired beauty had owled asking for its return, despite the fact that they'd be seeing each other in a few short hours for lunch. She never was patient for these sorts of things.

An echo from down the hall led her to Ebony's bedroom, where she was trying on one of her newest acquisitions: A sea green robe that shimmered like sunlight hitting the waters. The sleeves trailed down in imitation of foam, thrashing behind her like miniaturized flags whenever she turned. Looking this way and that, she made a face of displeasure before finally facing her friend with an excitement about her only reserved for the thrill of new clothes.

"Oh, you've brought it! You're a _hero,_ Megan—just in the nick-time!"

Megan snorted with laughter as she handed off the bag, watching her friend change its color to match her robes with a tap of her wand. "I think you mean "in the nick of time," you silly woman."

The ink-haired woman dismissed her words with a wave. "Whatever, those Muggle sayings are always weird. Now help me pick out an outfit! I can't have Thaddeus think I'm a blind harpy."

Much laughter followed as the two women went through dozens of outfits; there was everything from sharp, professional wear to saucy red robes fit for passionate dancing. The poor satchel went through hundreds of color palettes. In the end, the woman sent her friend off in search of the lady of the house for a third opinion.

She should have known Ebony was up to something.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	15. what a bang!

**Title:** what a bang!  
**Prompt(s) Used:** Hypnotized, Lost Things, The Probable Future  
**Word Count:** 1213  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** Sometimes, Megan forgot just how grateful she was for her friends. Ebony's more benevolent schemes were very effective reminders.

* * *

Mrs. Benyth had told her, in "no nonsense" tones, that if her daughter wanted to have her look at her outfit that it was going to have to come to _her._ With a good-natured huff, Megan spun on her heel and retraced her steps, muttering the whole way about bossy witches and her tendency to listen to them. _That's going to change, and soon,_ she told herself as she entered the bedroom—and then stopped. Where had her friend gone off to?

"Ebony?" Glancing around for any sign of her, she walked towards the closet and tried again, a bit louder, "Ebony?"

"This way, Megan!" It was faint, but it came in the direction of the opposite end of the corridor. Merlin knew what had dragged the woman out there, even further away from her mother. Exiting the bedroom once more, the brunette listened to the shouted, "Come here, I need your keen eyesight!"

Megan snorted, but she was her sole audience as she made her way past the glorious flowers and whispering portraits. _Yes,_ she thought sarcastically, _let's ask the woman with glasses if she sees something. That's the only _logical_ thing to do in this situation._ She sighed, shaking her head. "Just what did you lose now?"

As she stepped into the larger room meant to entertain guests, though, all thoughts ceased. Coming to a halt in the doorway, she watched as the ink-haired woman turned to face her, sly smirk on her face. Her tone was equally smug as she joked, "Oh, well, I was going to ask if you could find my favorite brunette, but I've just found her."

"Ebony, what…" Words failed her at that moment, eyes trailing along the sparkling streamers and bobbing faerie lights. She was hypnotized by the beautiful display, of green and silver and red and blue, all twirling like visible air currents that coalesced into rainbow ribbons above her head. When she could finally tear herself away from the sight, her gaze roamed over the familiar faces gathered around the room. It almost looked like a—party? Hadn't she already told Ebony she didn't want a party?

For a moment, she envisioned what her life would have been like if she'd had birthday parties like this: A room filled with friends, a day dedicated just for her. Her throat clenched as she remembered how her father always threw family get-togethers on this day, knowing that _he_ knew they just weren't the same. If he could see her now… would he feel guilty, or relieved?

And just like that, it was gone. Pushing away the thoughts that made her vision blur, she smiled widely and shouted in disbelief, "No _way_, you guys! Really?"

Two of her old classmates walked up, keeping a bit of distance between each other as if any contact would cause them to burst into flames. The redhead gave a polite greeting, but the brown-haired man came up and gave her a massive hug designed to crack her back in three places. "Watson! So glad you could make it!" He put her at arm's length, giving her a once over as he grinned. "You're not as short as I remember. Good for you!"

Smiling, Megan viciously tugged on Locke's braid as recompense. _Interesting choice of hairstyle._ She ignored his "ow" as she retorted, "Yet you're still a prat. Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same." She turned to greet the other, polite smile on her face. "Cylan, hello. How's your team been? Sorry, I don't keep up with sports."

Cylan gave a noncommittal answer, and although she appreciated his presence she was equally glad when a rough glove caught her shoulder and spun her around into another embrace. Drake Zemyr, black hair short enough to be compared to Muggle military, was just as enthusiastic as the brunet had been. "How's my aspiring dragon expert?" He had roughened up since they had last seen each other. His chin was scruffy with the beginnings of a beard.

"Still working on her dragon degree," she joked. "Although my dream of becoming a dragon rider is not in the probable future, or so I've been told."

He firmly patted her back, voice encouraging. "There's always someone mixing things up."

Ebony chose this moment to weave her way between the two, the most devious of smirks on her lips. She interrupted rather loudly, "_Speaking_ of mixing things up, there's _another_ surprise for you, birthday girl." She then shooed the others away, mentioning "places" before pulling the brunette to the center of the room. "Just stand here," she instructed, "and _watch._"

Unsure of what was to follow, Megan did as she was told. The ink-haired woman left her as she went to stand between Cylan and Locke with a look that suggested she gleefully anticipated doing damage control. Things were never simple between her various friends, she mused, right before a soft voice erased all thoughts for the second time that day.

"_Aeris vittas._"

Her hair fanned out as she whipped her head around, searching for the source that sounded so close. "What—"

The ribbons, as if given leave to move about, detached from the ceiling and chandelier to twirl down to her level—then they stopped to hover amongst the Charms and lights like airborne serpents. Indeed, they took on a reptilian shape, until even she with her poorer eyesight could tell they were meant to resemble dragons as they silently roared and snapped at each other. Soaring above her head and releasing colored cones of mock-flames, they began a dance much like dragon courtship. They rose and spiraled downwards in pairs, and her eyes sparkled as they split apart to reveal new ribbons.

The room was a living tapestry of magic.

She ignored the cheers around the room in favor of turning around to see Loic standing a few feet away, wand at his side and pleased smirk on his face. When she realized that _he_ was the sorcerer behind this display, her smile stretched into a laugh uninhibited by anxiety or nervousness. Delighted with the show, she took a step towards him and, with all of her heart, told him, "_Thank you._"

A green one swooped down to twirl about her head, catching her attention long enough for the man to take his own step forward. He was so close that she'd brush against him if she fiddled with her hair. His lips parted to reveal that stunning smile, full of mischievousness and an intensity she had never dealt with before.

"I'm not done yet," he teased, warm and playful. "You haven't seen the finale."

With a whisper, he flicked his wand towards the center of the room. And suddenly, every dragon-ribbon rose at once and exploded, showering confetti and harmless sparks upon the audience. Everyone clapped in honor of his efforts, but Megan was by far the loudest and most genuine. She had noticed the glowing runes written on their sides just before their detonation, and she was caught up in the thought that there were far more uses for the ancient symbols than she had previously imagined.

It was, by far, the best gift she had ever received. How was anything ever going to top that?

* * *

**Trivial Author's Note**: You really shouldn't use Google Translate to get accurate translations for something you plan on sharing with the world... but sometimes, you are just too lazy to do some honest research, and it's just so darn convenient.

* * *

_-Dragon_


	16. life of the party

**Title**: life of the party  
**No prompt, just for funsies!  
Word Count:** 743  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** Mild mention of death (in family)  
**Summary:** Lots of people came to celebrate her birthday. Made a girl feel special.

* * *

The celebration was long, or at least that's how it felt for Megan. She wasn't used to being the center of attention for this many people; she'd had small get-togethers with relatives for birthdays, and any time with friends was spent just going along with things. This was something else entirely. A little overwhelmed by the party guests, the brunette took a break in the kitchen with the House-Elves, which had Ebony rolling her eyes and the Elves watching her warily.

"I'm not going to mess with your chores," she promised, smiling when an elder Elf snorted. She took a seat and thanked them for providing her with tea—she was surprised, yet not, that they remembered her favorite blend. Letting the sounds of their busy work soothe her nerves, she had ten minutes of calm before she forced herself back out into the fray.

In her absence, Ebony had gotten tables moved and Transfigured to create a large rectangular one down the center of the room reminiscent of their school days. Food already littered the silver platters; she caught the ink-haired woman hexing Locke for trying to snag a piece of ham before the rest of them. With the birthday girl's presence, their gracious host allowed them to take their seats and start eating.

Conversation was loud and varied as everyone took their fill from the delicious food. Along with the hostess and the birthday girl, the table seated several of her oldest friends: Locke, Drake and Cylan, obviously; then Mary Kunnin (a Gryffindor who had graduated three years ahead of her), Axel Zibburus (Slytherin, two years younger), and Theron Ho (Slytherin, one year). Along with them sat Sarah Vulpes (Hufflepuff, two years ahead), Nicole Clingerklug (Ravenclaw, one year), and Loic. Megan found herself between Ebony and Drake, with Loic taking the seat across from her. He made entertaining expressions whenever she glanced his way, nearly causing her to choke quite a few times and completely lose her train of thought. She endeavored to keep her attention elsewhere as a result, diving into Drake and Locke's recounting of their exploits.

"My uncle was very generous," Drake was saying, "letting me bunk with him for the wizard naturalists' convention. I've been itching to meet the veterans there. 'Course, he could've told me about the Thestrals _before_ I walked right into their pen."

"It wasn't clearly marked?"

"Apparently, the Thestrals got bored and tore it down." He let them laugh at his expense, shaking his head with a smile. "I don't like creatures I can't see snuffling through my robes."

"Spooky," muttered Locke.

Megan laughed at that, but grew more solemn as she pointed out, "It's not worth being able to see them, though." Her gaze unfocused as she was distracted by thoughts of her father and her grandfather, wondering just how close she had been to being able to see Thestrals herself. Would that change in the future?

"Of course not!" An abrupt _thunk_ jolted her from her dark thoughts, bringing her attention back to Locke and his fun-loving smile. "I'd imagine they'd put anyone off of their food, with the stories I've heard."

"And we all know how much Watson loves food," stage-whispered Drake, earning an elbow in his side as she protested loudly to their laughter.

"Not funny, prat!"

"It was plenty funny," teased Ebony. The ink-haired woman waved away a half-joking glare with a sly look on her face. "Or did you forget who helped you sneak into the kitchen on particularly perilous nightly excursions? We almost landed detention on a number of occasions."

Before the brunette could argue, Loic spoke up from across the table, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I'm sure my expert advice helped you in that regard." Unable to muster even a mock-scowl at his obvious delight, she could only laugh and tuck her hair behind an ear, earning a knowing glance from her old dormmate.

"Yes, it was quite helpful."

Looking about the table filled with her friends and old classmates, Megan decided it wouldn't hurt to keep them around for quite some time. _Maybe some more so than others,_ she amended, glancing at Cylan's discomfort with the more energetic gestures Locke used to plot out Quidditch techniques. But regardless of what happened in the future, she had them here now, and she would savor this memory for many summers to come in the hopes of recreating it.

_This… is what home feels like._

* * *

_-Dragon_


	17. Hey, Mr Postman

**Title:** Hey, Mr. Postman  
**Prompt:** Mysterious Books  
**Word Count:** 285  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairings (if any):** Megan/Loic  
**Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc):** N/A  
**Summary:** Correspondence between Megan and Loic. It's the most excitement she's ever felt exchanging owls with someone.

* * *

_Loic,_  
_Thank you again for the knowledge you've shared with me. I've never seen this sort of runework before! I'm experimenting with some potions using equipment I've inscribed with runes, and I'm incredibly optimistic about the results. Could I send you some samples—for a second opinion?_  
_Gratefully,_  
_Megan_

_._

_Megan,_  
_It was entirely my pleasure, if it could help in even the smallest way. I'll be glad to assist further in your research, although I'm not as enamored in ancient dialects as my father. Would you like to join me for lunch to discuss your ideas? I could bring more of the dusty, forgotten tomes in my family's library. I'm sure they won't mind our borrowing them._  
_At your service,_  
_Loic_

_._

_Loic,_  
_If you're free Thursday afternoon, then I'd love to. If it's not too much trouble, could you meet me at Scrivenshaft's around three? It'll be a late lunch, but unfortunately this week is rather hectic. You have to love how the students and their parents rush into stores at the last minute._  
_Sound good to you?_  
_Sarcastically,_  
_Megan_

_._

_Megan,_  
_It sounds perfect. Have you ever dined at The Knuckerhole? It's a restaurant in London with plenty of room on the tables for books, and a very understanding staff. I'd like to introduce you to the woman who runs the place, an old classmate of mine. It's a casual setting—a relief from the uncomfortable regality of my parents' manor._  
_Yours,_  
_Loic_

_ ._

_Loic,_

_What a unique name for a restaurant. It makes me want to jump back into researching dragons. I'll see you Thursday, then? I've never been, but I'm always open to trying something new. _

_Yours, (**scratched out**)_

_Megan_

_ ._

_I'll hold you to that._

_Loic_

* * *

_-Dragon_


End file.
